I graduated from university under the USSR in the specialty of economics. We were taught in a very different way and for a very different purpose than we are now. For example, we knew that the most effective government investment is in health and education, because healthy and educated people work more effectively, are less sick, do not bully and obey the law. But the most inefficient state investments were considered at the time - in the militia and bureaucracy, because they fatten the budget without giving anything to the state in return. Now, unfortunately, we live in a reversed world – police budgets even in developed countries are higher than society’s spending on education and medicine. My story is about something like that.

Like all the students in the summer, we went on construction to the SSO, where they worked out their free education and earned extra money for themselves on grain. And it took us to the district of the city of Kotlas, to the villages where the zones were intertwined by chemical settlements. It is clear that chemists were not scientists, but settlers. They were engaged, like everyone else in those regions, then mainly in forestry - refining, refining (correct refining, not current), loading, transportation, etc. And we had to build a school - a large three-storey with a swimming pool and a stadium. The police department lived in a wooden barracks, but we did not build it. This village was very strange and the name of Kadnikovsky and the customs of the locals. There were many families with children. But their parents and children there spoke in some special slang - the mother fan. It seemed a completely unrealistic fantasy that these people would be able to read normal books, write works, speak pure Russian. As assistants, we were given a fifth of minors for re-education. How they liked our commander and commissioner, I do not know.
They are small, splashy, smoking all the time, looking for any reason not to do anything. But when a commander or commissioner appears, they begin to lie down, depicting dying from labor and fatigue. They may not have seen another life. The commander in the evenings at dinner plays such stories about the life of his orphan that to raise on their hand seemed impossible. So I suffered with them. On the day of the builder in August and our commissioner, and the commander, a couple of brigadier and a couple of obaltus children were invited to Kotlas for a solemn holiday. They promised a lot of prizes and prizes. After washing, shaving, we laid out the Watman leaves on the doors, placed on the goats as tables, hid in the bushes the bottles of one, placed the other beautifully on the tables and began to wait. The children left with us joked about something, joked and disappeared unnoticed.
There is no commander, no commissioner, no prize. They come here happy and cheerful and look at us with amazement. Why not celebrate the prize, where the furchette, the holiday cake. The prize was? Where is? The distracted commissioner looked around – so we, he says, were left at the banquet and we sent her out of the boy... He looked around us, saw that there were no children and was thick red. We were dressed, we were dressed, we were dressed. Well, the commander told the commissioner, go to the police. Don’t need the police,” Savelich said, “our driver, an elderly, silent local man in his knees. Do not need. He sat in the gas and left. For some reason, no one even risked after his intonation of words to go to the department. The celebration was finally ruined. Two days later, a gasket arrives, and there are three scratched and scratched children with a money ball. Silently they went out, silently gave to the commander, silently went to change clothes. The rest of the month worked equally with the construction workers. and silence. On the question where the two just shrugged their hands into the area. Ask Savelich, how did you find it? He replied - you are building our school, the whole village was looking for these wretches. No more words. When we already gathered and went to buy gifts at the local supermarket - the turn demanded (naturally) to leave us without a turn - they built us school. And the grandmothers who would ride anybody in the place - we were also pushed in front of ourselves so that we could also buy salamantera shoes and Finnish boots for mommies home (the villages were very even good). They built a school for us and I have never felt a greater pride in my work. The village of Kadnikovsky. The 1975 year.